


Nightmares and Daydreams

by ObjectPermanence



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cutting, Daydreams, Don't Judge Me, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Prius, Suicide, Yes I put Prius in the Tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObjectPermanence/pseuds/ObjectPermanence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens every night, Enjolras wakes in the middle of the night screaming and drenched in sweat. When the nightmares come he clings to the sheets, and cries in the darkness. Trying to forget the images that plague his mind, Combeferre screaming as he is drowned, Courfeyrac being shot in the head, Joly's skin is peeling as he cries out for death to take him, and Grantaire laying in a pool of his own blood. He can't get away from them, his friends deaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmares of the Enjolras Kind

**Author's Note:**

> So I promise that the next chapter will be more exciting! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated, and really I don't mean to be an attention-whore, but they give me more incentive to write and continue the series!

_It happens every night, Enjolras wakes in the middle of the night screaming and drenched in sweat. When the nightmares come he clings to the sheets, and cries in the darkness. Trying to forget the images that plague his mind, Combeferre screaming as he is drowned, Courfeyrac being shot in the head, Joly's skin is peeling as he cries out for death to take him, and Grantaire laying in a pool of his own blood. He can't get away from them, his friends deaths._

_He keeps it quiet, explaining away the dark circles under his eyes as simply the result of his staying up late to do homework. Enjolras could never tell his friends of his deepest fear, their deaths. The idea of losing them haunts him during the day, but becomes unbearable at night._

_The nightmares had started when they began planning the protests in Freshman year of college. At first they happened only occasionally, and weren't nearly as bad. But over time they had quickly evolved into the living hell that he experienced every night. Enjolras feared going to bed, knowing they would come. Some nights he would lie awake for hours, not daring to sleep._

_He would never tell anyone, would never seek help, afraid of looking weak. Enjolras never spent the night at anyone's house, and drank copious amounts of coffee to avoid falling asleep in class, even though he was so tired from not sleeping the night before. Once he fell asleep in the library, and Bossuet shook him awake, apparently he'd began to shake and sweat. That was the first and, hopefully, the last time that would happened._

-ooo-

The meeting had lasted much laonger than anyone had originally anticipated. As they stacked the chairs on the table in back room of the cafe the clock read 12:56am. "Okay, so who wants to deal with Grantaire?" Combeferre nodded towards the cyninc who had fallen asleep in his chair, head resting in a small puddle of drool on the table.

"No nose goes" Courfeyrac yelled, putting his finger on his nose immediatley. Everyone did the same, except Enjolras, who had been putting his text book into his bag.

"Enjolras! You've won a Grantaire! Have fun!" Joly waved as he and Bossuet marched out of the door, followed closley by the others.

He sighed, zipping his bag and walking towards the sleeping boy. "Great" He mutteded, running his fingers through his hair. "Grantaire." He shook his shoulder softly. When there was no response he shook it harder. "Grantaire, get up." The boy only let out a grunt, and waved his hand around for a moment.

"What?" He turned his head so he was able to look Enjolras in the eyes. His black mass of curls stuck out at odd angles, and framed his face.

Enjolras grabbed the boy's arm with two hands and hoisted him into a sitting position. "It's almost 1am, you need to go home."

He let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back in the chair. "Let sleep here until I die."

"You need to go home." Enjolras repeated, more firmly this time while placing his hands on his hips.

Grantaire shot him a glare, and rose from his seat. "Fine. But you're driving."

-ooo-

They walked out of the school and into the parking lot in silence. Grantaire climbed into the passenger seat of Enjolras's red Prius. As he started the engine Enjolras turned to the darkhaired boy. "So, where's your house?" There was no response other than Grantaire's soft snores. "How the fuck are you already alseep? It's been like two minutes?" He groaned with annoyance, and drove out of the now empty school lot.

"God damn it." Enjolras drove for a bit, unsure what to do with Grantaire, who was sleeping peacefuly next to him. In sleep his constant scowl had sofened into a small smile, and he looked calm and content. A look which was only disturbed by occasional snore, which echoed around the small car.

Eventually Enjolras gave up and drove back to his apartment. When they arrived he hauled Grantaire over his shoulder, and carried him up the stairs to his house. He weighed more than Enjolras had expected, but he assumed it was due to the Grantaire muscle mass, there was a rumor that he'd had a breif career in MMA fighting.

He unlocked the door, and carried the boy in, dropping him on the couch, which creaked slightly. Grantaire let out a satisfied sigh, and curled in on himself slightly. Enjolras retreived a blanket off of his bed, and draped it over Grantaire's sleeping form. Smiling to himself, he walked back into his room.

Enjolras looked over at his bed, and stripped to his boxers. His gaze didn't move, he was so tired that he didn't think about the nightmares. For the first time in almost a year he wasn't afraid as he slowly drifted off to sleep, tucked inbetween the matress and his blanket he welcomed sleep.

-ooo-

He's standing the the study room, everything seems normal, but the light is slightly off. There are odd shadows cast accross the room, and a soft moan drifts from underneath the table. Enjolras kneels down and sees there is a trail of blood leading towards the door. His fet move of their own accord, following the trail out of the room. But instead of leading into the hallway the door opens out onto his childhood room. Courfeyrac sits in a small chair, staring blankly at the wall. "Couf?" He asked reaching out towards his friend.

The Irishman just stared through him, and in one fluid motion pulls a handgun out of his pocket, raises it to his head, and fires. His gaze never wavering from Enjolras and the bullet rips through the side of his head, spraying the wall with his blood as he slumps in the chair. "Couf!" He screams, though he has seen him kill himself hundreds of times, it is never any less traumatizing. Enjolras falls to his knees, staring at his lifeless friend, and looks up at the blood splatter on the wall. It's begining to drip, and three words can be made out, written in blood, _You did this._ "No!" Enjolras yells, burying his head in his hands, trying to block out the image that is burnt onto his retinas.

A moment later he opens his eyes, and the room is gone along with Courfeyrac's lifeless body. He instead finds himself in a forest, the sun is already high in the sky. He walks slowly towards a large oak tree that he feels drawn too. Leaves crunch under his feet, and he realises that he is barefoot. A warm breeze blows through the trees, making a soft whistling. Enjolras feels much safer here, the air is warm and inviting.

But the feeling of saftey quickly disappears when he sees Feuily laying on his back on the ground. Crows and flying around him, and a few are sitting on his chest. Blood trickles from the side of his mouth, and his eyes have been gouged out. The crows on his chest are pulling bits of blood and tissue from his chest cavity which has been ripped open in some horrific accident. The crows cry out, and as if by magic, all take wing and surge towards Enjolras at once. Their beaks snap at him, and their black wings fill the air with a heavy beating, similar to war drums. 

Enjolras can't scream because a cold hand has wrapped itself around his mouth and he can't breathe. His hands scrabble at the attacker's, but the grip only tightens. Enjolras feelt light headed and passed out a moment later, crumlping like a house of cards.

He's falling and there appears to be no bottom to the pit. It feels like he's been falling forever when suddenly his feet come to rest on a soft surface. Opening his eyes Enjolras sees Grantaire in what looks like a kitchen. "Grantaire." He calls out to him, but the boy appears not to have heard him, continuing to root around in the fridge.

A moment later he straightens up, and sits on the counter. In one hand he holds a vary large bottle of whiskey, he pauses for a moment, studying the label before taking a long swig. He continues to drink for a while, stopping every so often to scratch his arm, or check his phone. He checks his phone once more, this time his brow knits into a scowl. Grantaire slams his Droid on the counter, and drains the rest of the bottle. 

Enjolras watched as the darkhaired boy rolled the bottle around in his hand for a moment, before gripping the neck tightly, and smashing one end on the side of the counter. Glass flew through the air and scattered accross the floor. He let out an angry scream, and threw his phone onto the ground as well. Enjolras flinched as the smartphone shattered into large chunks on the tile.

Tears began to fall from Grantaire's eyes as he dragged the ragged edge of the broken bottle accross his forearm. Blood poured from the cut marks, as he carved something into his arm. "I did this for you!" He screamed at the wall, "I fucking love you!" Grantaire was bleeding heavily, and the blood was starting to pool on the ground. He let out a shriek and fell off of the counter, collapsing in a pool of his own blood. "I love you!" He sobbed out, his clothes becoming soaked in blood, and the bottle still tightly clenched in his left hand. "Why would you do that?" He whimpered, cradling his arm to his chest before passing out on the floor.

"Grantaire!" Enjolras screamed as he fell to the floor, "Please don't die! Please!" He begging, though he knows no one can hear him. Tears are rolling down his cheeks as Grantaire breathing becomes shallow, and eventually stops completly. "No!" He screams, burying his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably, and falling to the ground. He wraps his arms around his legs and curls into a ball, trying to ignore the blood soaking into his jeans.

-ooo-

Enjolras woke covered in sweat, screaming. Tears were forming in his eyes, and his hear pounded against his chest. Pulling the covers up around himself he bit the sheets as he sobbed uncontrollably. The image of Grantaire dying on the ground was burnt into his retinas, and he couldn't stop reliving that moment over and over again.

Through his sobs he heard someone yell something he couldn't understand. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to wake up from what he though must still be a nightmare. "Enjolras!" He was able to make his name out between his sobs.

Enjolras glanced up to see Grantaire running through his door wearing nothing but his red boxers. "Enj, what's wrong? You were screaming!" His hair stuck up at odd angles as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're crying, what happened? Are you okay?" He shook his head furiously, still clinging to the blankets as he shut his eyes tightly again. "It's okay, I'm here." Grantaire reached out to the golden haired boy.

Enjolras let out a strangled sob and threw his arms around Grantaire, crying into his bare chest. The other boy hesitated befor wrapping his arms around Enjolras and trying to comfort him, "I'm here." He held the goldenhaired boy tightly as he sobbed and shook.

"It was awful." Enjolras managed to say between his tears. "The nightmares." His body shook violently, and he gasped for breath. "Everyone was dead. You were dead."

Grantaire held him tigher in his arms, "You're awake now. Nobody's dead. Everyone's okay." He rubbed Enjolras's back with one hand trying to calm him down. "Nothing can hurt you now."

"B-but you killed yourself, and I could only watch." Enjolras was able to form actual sentences, and his breathing was begining to become steady again. "Couf shot himself, and crows were eating Bahorel."

"I would never kill myself." Gantaire assured him in a soft voice, "Not while I still have you."

Enjolras shook his head against his chest. "But the nightmares won't ever go away! They're never going to stop!" He shook violently and took a strangled gasp for air.

"They will go away, someday." Grantaire looked down at Enjolras. "I used to have a recurring nightmare." Grantaire laid Enjolras back down on his bed. Their blue eyes met as Grantaire tucked the other boy back into bed. "May I?" He nodded towards the bed.

"Um-sure." Enjolras stuttered as Grantaire slipped into the bed next to him. Their bodies were pressed together under the blankets and their arms were wrapped around eachother.

Grantaire sighed and paused for a moment. "I had this dream almost every night for two years during High School. I'm walking in a dark tunnel. There's this nagging feeling that I shouldn't be here, but I just keep walking." He swallowded nervously as Enjolras entangles his fingers in his dark curls. "And then I can see a light up ahead. It keeps getting closer, and I keep walking towards it, and I can't stop. It's closer and I can hear the engine, and I know instantly where I am. I'm in a train station, and I'm walking on the tracks. It's horn blows and I stop walking, and it's even closer, but I can't move. I just stand there." He took a deep breath, "And then it runs me down. And I wake up."

Enjolras took in what Grantaire had said for a moment. "Every night for the bast year I have nightmares about everyone I care about dying. I see Courfayrac kill himself every night, you're cutting youself, and then you pass out and die in a puddle of your own blood. And then I wake up screaming and crying, and I can't get back to sleep. It's horrible." He buried his face in Grantaire's chest again, taking in his scent of mint and night air. "I just want it stop."

Grantaire cradled Enjolras's head against him, "They will stop, but you need to sleep right now." Enjolras looked up at him with worried eyes. "I'm here, they're not going to come back tonight, I promise. Just go to sleep." He stroked the boy's hair as he sighed into his chest. "You'll be okay."

Enjolras snuggled up against Grantaire, and laid there for a while listenig to their breathing, before allowing sleep to overtake him.

The nightmares didn't return that night. And Enjolras woke cradled in Grantaire's arms.

 


	2. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know it's stupid, but I just kept seeing the crows eating Bahorel." Enjolras had stopped shaking, but was still pressed firmly into the other boy's chest, his arms wrapping around the cynic. "It just hit me, and I couldn't deal with it. Usually this only happens at night."
> 
> Grantaire held his head against his chest, "You're safe." He comforted Enjolras as they sat on the bathroom floor. He wasn't sure how long they sat there, alone in the stall before Enjolras looked up at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kind of a slow chapter, but I just wanted to work on character building. Hope you enjoy, have a happy St. Patrick's Day! Now I'm going to go have corned beef and irish soda bread! Irish Pride! :D

Grantaire untangled his limbs from Enjolras, and silently got out of the bed. He said nothing as he puts his shirt back on. Enjolras stayed where he was, wrapped in the blankets as the other boy buttoned his pants. They exchanged weak smiles he walked out to the living room.

Enjolras got out of bed, and leaned against the door frame, watching as the cynic clumsily folded the blanket on the couch. Once he was done Grantiare turned to him, nodded and left the apartment without exchanging a single word. The silence between them held a sort of mutal agreement. _I didn't spend the night. I didn't see you crying and shaking. I didn't hold you in bed. I don't know about the nightmares. Last night didn't happen._  

He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of orange juice. The cup was too cold in his hands, and he just stared at it for a while, as if expecting it to talk. The juice stayed silent, leaving Enjolras to question how his realationship had changed with Grantaire. Nothing had happened, but now the cynic knew about about his nightmares. "F-fuck." He mumbled, rubbing one eye with the heel of his palm.

The clock on the wall chimed a few times and read 9:00. "I'm late." He muttered angrily, dumping the untouched glass of juice into the sink and left the the glass on the counter. Enjolras rushed into his bedroom and threw on an old t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a red sweatshirt. As he raced out of the apartment he didn't fail to notice the yellow stickynote covered in Grantaire's rocognizable chicken scratch stuck to his coffee table. He shut the door behind him, leaving the paper to be investigated later, when he wasn't in such a hurry.

-ooo-

He dropped into his politcs class 10 minutes late, earning a glare from M. Javert. Combeferre and Joly gave him questioning glances, he's never late and people are noticing the discrepancy in his attendance record. Enjolras manges to to produce his textbook, flip to the correct page, and begin taking notes before Courfeyrac's paper ball hits the back of his head. It fell to the floor where Enjolras retreived it and then unfolded the crumpled note. Did taking Grantaire home last night turn you into a copy of him? You're never late. What gives?

Enjolras shot Courfeyrac an annoyed look before trying to focus on Javert's lecture on the revolution on th Kingdom of Poland. Feuilly's enjoying this. He thinks to himself, smiling and doodling in the margins of his paper. The lecture was really quite boring and his mind started to wander.

He thought about the note on his coffee table, wondering what it said, and when Grantaire had written it. The way Grantaire's arms had been wrapped around him as he shook and cried. His strong arms, holding him steady as the world began to spin out of control, bringing him back to reality. The same arms that he'd watched blood pour from in his dream. Enjolras shuddered slightly, and pushed the memory of the dream away. They're all fine.

"Enjolras!" M. Javert's voice echoed around the room as he jumped in his seat. "Are you content to fail my class and daydream in the back, or do you wish to answer my question? When did Bloody Wednesday occur?"

"August 15 1906." He responded quickly, trying not to look too flustered when he realised all of his friends were looking at him.

Combeferre, who is sitting next to him, whispers, "Enjolras, is something wrong? You're acting really strangely." Concern knitted his eyebrows together just above his glasses.

Enjolras nodded, continuing to take notes, "I'm fine. Really."

The bell rang a while later, dismissing everyone. "Read from 394 to 415 by tomorrow!" Javert said as the class began to file out. Enjolras was the last to leave, his bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder. "Enjolras." He placed his hand on his student's shoulder.

"Yes M. Javert?"

"Listen, I know this isn't your normal behaviour. Has something happened?" He sat down at his desk, gesturing for Enjolras to take a seat. "Is everything okay?"

The student nodded, "Oh, nothing's wrong. Just sort of an off day."

Javert ran a hand through his hair, "Okay, just don't make a habbit of this. You're a very good student, and I'd hate to see you fail my class for something lke this."

"Yes Monsieur." Enjolras dipped his head, collected his books off of the table, and left the room to join his friends.

-ooo-

Courfeyrac punched Enjolras in the arm as he sat down at the table. "So, did wine-cask over here give you much trouble last night?"

"Shut up Couf!" Grantaire took a drink out of his water bottle, and knowing the alcoholic art student, it wasn't filled with water.

Enjolras took a bite out of his burger, "Not really. Pretty normal."

Grantaire mocked surprise, "That is the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!"

Combeferre smirked from behind his pizza, and Joly laughed loudly, dropping his fork back into his salad. "I'm sure it is." Enjolras shot back sarcastically, putting his bruger back on the plate as Feuilly walked over with Eponine and Bahorel.

"Hey Enj, you were acting really weird in politics today. What gives?" Feuilly asked while sitting down next to Joly.

Bahorel took the empty seat next to Enjolras, setting his plate of spaghetti and meatballs down. "Yea, you've never had Javert yell at you. Wish I could say the same." He scooped up a meatball and some noodles on his fork, and shovled them into his mouth. "Yesterday when he was yelling at me for drawing a dick on the side of my test I totally thought Javert was going to rip my throat out infront of the entire class!"

Enjolras fidgeted in his seat, noticing how much the spaghetti resembled the vicera the crows had been pulling from Bahorels's chest in his dream. "Bathroom. "He mumbled before abruptly leaving the table and rushing down the hall.

"What the fuck was that about?" Eponine asked, watching the golden haired boy bump into some exchange students on his way to the bathroom.

Courfeyrac shrugged his shoulders, and took a bite out of Enjolras's burger. "No idea." He responded around a mouthful of burgers and fries.

-ooo-

Enjolras had been gone for almost 10 minutes when Grantaire stood up. "I'm going to check on him." He announced, marching out of the lunch room, and down the hallway to the bathrooms. He arrived a few moments later, and pushed the door open. It was the middle of lunch, and it was completly empty excpet for the disabled stall. "Enjolras?" He called softly, pausing as the door shut behind him.

A quiet sob came from the largest stall, a sniffle then a weak voice responded, "They won't go away." Grantaire walked towards the stall, and opened it slowly. Enjolras was sitting in the corner of the stall, his arms curled around his legs. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, his blue eyes were wide and scared. "Bahorel said-and I just couldn't-" He stopped gasping as a tremor shook his entire body.

Grantaire sat down next to him, wrapping his arms around the other boy. "It's okay. Javert wouldn't actually kill Bahorel." He chuckled softly. "But that's not what bothered you. It was the food wasn't it." Enjolras pressed his face into Grantaire shoulder and nodded.

"I know it's stupid, but I just kept seeing the crows eating Bahorel." Enjolras had stopped shaking, but was still pressed firmly into the other boy's chest, his arms wrapping around the cynic. "It just hit me, and I couldn't deal with it. Usually this only happens at night."

Grantaire held his head against his chest, "You're safe." He comforted Enjolras as they sat on the bathroom floor. He wasn't sure how long they sat there, alone in the stall before Enjolras looked up at him.

"We've been gone for a while, we should go back."

Grantaire wiped a single tear from Enjolras's cheek. "You're right, lets go before they come looking for us." He stood and offered a hand to the other boy, who took it immediatley.

As Grantaire left the stall and began straightening his shirt, which had become wrinkled while he was holding his friend, the door to the bathroom opened softly. He didn't see Bossuet walk in just in time to see Enjolras throw his arms around the cynic and embrace him tightly.

-ooo-

**A very short Bossuet interlude**

 

"They've been gone for way too long. Someone needs to go check on them." Joly wrung his hands nervously, "What if they got sick? There are lots of bacteria in bathrooms!"

"No nose goes!" Courfeyrac yelled, resorting to his usual method of decision making.

Bossuet was the last to comply. "Fuck." He trudged off towards the men's bathroom, hand buried in his pockets while the others laughed softly at his bad luck.

He only got lost twice on his way to find the boys. Eventually he arrived at the bathroom, and walked inside just in time to see Grantaire straightening his clothes. That's a bit odd. He thought a moment before Enjolras emerged from the same stall and throw his arms around Grantaire.

Both boys were deshevled, Grantaire shirt was out of place, and Enjolras's hair stuck up at odd angles. It looked like something much more serious than comforting had gone on. Bossuet froze, watching his two friends embrace for a moment, and then Grantaire smoothed Enjolras's hair out, smiling broadly. "Um...." His jaw dropped for a moment before he rushed out of the bathroom and down the hall. "Nope! Nope! Nope!" He mumbled as he dropped back into his seat.

"Hey, did you find them? Are they okay?" Feuilly asked innocently.

Bossuet folded his arms and put his head against the table. "I don't want to talk about it."

-ooo-

"Did you hear something?" Enjolras released Grantaire as the door shut quietly behind Bossuet. The cynic shook his head, curls bouncing slightly. "Okay, lets go."

Grantaire followed Enjolras out of the bathroom and back to the table. Bossuet had his head on the table, and Joly was rubbing his back. "What happened here?" Grantaire asked sitting down in his seat.

"He won't say." Feuilly answered, drinking part of his smoothie before passing the rest to Eponine who happily accepted it.

Enjolras let out an exasperated moan, "Who ate my burger? Seriously! That was my lunch! And my fries too!" Courfeyrac burst out laughing at Enjolras's distress, and raised his hand in surrender. "Damn it Courf!" Enjolras reached accross the table and punched the laughing boy in the arm.

Bossuet let out a groan and stood up, "I'm going home. No more classes today. See you guys later." Joly followed him, quickly muttering about diseases and sicknesses he might have.

"Wonder who pissed in his cheerios? Looked like he walked in on two people fucking or something." Bahorel snorted, throwing his phone into his backpack. "I've got Physical Ed in 15 minutes with Montparnasse. Such a perv." He shook his head and wandered off in the direction of the PE department. It was common knowledge that Monsieur Montparnasse gave higher grades for shorter shorts, tighter shirts, and bigger tits. That and he sometimes slept with students, but no one ever did anything because no one really cared.

The clock struck 1:30 and everyone began to disperse towards their classes. Grantaire had Art, Enjolras was off to Poli-Sci, Joly was Pre-Med, and Eponine went to Intro To Chemistry. The hours dragged by, everyone waiting for the clock to hit 4:00. Eponine managed to burn a hole in a textbook with some acid. Joly discovered 15 new diseases he would worry about later that night. Combeferre broke his cello bow, and then snapped a girl's violin string while trying to borrow a spare bow. Courfeyrac made bad passes at a girl in the library for half an hour, he stopped only when her girlfriend came over and they started making out amongst the books. Grantaire painted a piece which his teacher described as being 'The most disturbing thing he'd seen since he'd seen an illustration of Catullus 16. To which Grantaire simply replied, "Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo." The teacher promptly kicked him out of class for the rest of the day.

-ooo-

"I vote we go to the pub!" Courfeyrac yelled from accross the parkinglot as Enjolras emerged form his Poly-Sci class. Eponine, Feuilly, Combeferre and Bahorel were leaning against eachother's cars, waiting for Joly and Enjolras.

"It's a democracy Couf! Majority wins!" Enjolras yelled back, "We need everyone to vote! I vote we go to the cafe!"

Courfeyrac shook his head, "We already voted! We're going to the pub!"

Enjolras jogged over and stopped next to Feuilly, "Please tell me you didn't actually already vote?" Feuilly shrugged, and pointed towards Courfeyrac, who had jumped over the hood his car and was starting the engine. Joly jogged over a moment later, and Combeferre informed him of their decision to go to the pub near Grantaire's house.

"Fine." Enjolras sighed, "Anyone need a ride?" He walked towards his Prius, and waved his keys in the air.

Eponine jogged behind him, "I do!" She jumped into the passenger seat, and flipped her hair out of here eyes before buckling her seatbelt. "Hey thanks. I didn't want to have to get a ride from Joly and have to listen to him recite old Latin poetry to me. It gets really annoying."

"No problem." Enjolras smiled at her. He didn't know Eponine too well, but from what he understood she was here on scholarship, and desperatley in love with a boy named Maruis.

"So, why was Bossuet so freaked out earlier? Do you have any idea?" She asked, running a hand through her hair, and then pressing her face up against the window to watch the people outside zip by.

Enjolras shook his head, "I really don't know. He never came into the bathroom either. My stomach was just upset." He remembered hearing the door open and close in the bathroom, That wasn't Lesgle, was it? He quickly pushed the thought away. "Maybe he ran into Montparnasse or something."

"Uggh, Montparnasse is such a creep! Did you hear he had sex with that girl for a better grade?"

"Which one?" Enjolras snorted, as they pulled up to the pub, one that Grantaire frequented. Enjolras had gotten lost only once derung the drive, and they were a few minutes late. He'd driven there many times at odd hours of the night with Combeferre to retreive the drunk. Once the Prius had been parked Enjolras and Eponine wandered inside to meet up with the others.

"Welcome to the ABC, where the drinks are moderatley priced and the fun is free. Please surrender any firearms or weapons you may have." The bartender was a blonde girl with large brown eyes. Enjolras nodded to her, before joining the others at a table in the corner.

Courfeyrac had a girl under each arm, Combeferre had a beer in one hands and his tie was undone. "Hey fucker!" Bahorel yelled from accross the room. The first thing Enjolras noticed about his extremley violent friend was his distinct lack of any sot of clothing from the waist up.

"Um, hey." Enjolras awkwardly accepted the beer that was forced into his hand and sat down next to Combeferre. "I'm like 10 minutes late, how are you guys already this drunk?"

Feuilly yelled a bit too loudly into Enjolras's ear, "We were going shot for shot with Grantaire before you got here! We all lost!" Sure enough Grantaire was at the bar, a girl on one arm, and slumped over a bottle of whiskey.

"God damn it." Enjolras muttered looking at the cynical young man, nearly passed out. "It's like 5:00, it's way to early to be that drunk." He shook his head, and drained a quarter of his beer. Looking around he noticed the abnormal amount of girls milling about the bar. Each of them seemed to have attached themselves to one of his friends.

"Hey." A girl with long red hair said in a husky tone from behind him. "You're really cute. Like a little lamb with those blue eyes." She walked around his chair, before planting herself on his lap. "Like in a hot way."

"Um...I'm not really comfortable with this. Maybe could you not sit there, or like anywhere near me?" Enjolras gave her a gentel shove, not wanting to be overly rude.

She gave him a shocked look, "What do you think I am? Some lowclass whore?"`

"Yes?" He said, the beer was clearly having an effect on him.

"You dick!" She shreiked angrily, slapping him accross the face. She gave him the finger as he cradled his cheek and then stormed off.

Enjolras slumped into his chair. "This sucks." He muttered, angrily ordering another beer. Eponine had assumed her usual spon next to Grantaire at the bar, her hand on a bottle of vodka. "Fuck it." He muttered before stumbling up to the bar, he really didn't drink that often and had a lower alcohol tolerance than most people.

"Hey." Eponine slurred around the bottle of vodka.

Enjolras clutched his beer tightly, "Hey." Grantaire gives a small grunt in response to the others, the girl still clinging to him. "Am I the only person who's noticed the alarming number of prostitutes around here?"

"Yes." Grantaire mumbled from his seat. "She's right here you know." He gestured to the prostitute who'd attached herself to his side. She smiled before stroking his hair with her long fingers. He sighed once before standing up abruptly.

"Hey! Party at my place!" Jehan yelled, a tie tied around his head. The friends let out a whoop, and all raced towards the exits, dropping coins on the table for the bill.

Grantaire, Eponine and Enjolras all rose from the bar and began to follow the others, but at a slightly slower pace. Grantaire turned to the whore, who was now trying to kiss him, and said flatly. "Fuck off, I'm gay." And then turned on his heel, gave a mock salute, and stumbled out of the bar, and into the back seat of Enjolras's Prius. "Drive woman!" He called drunkenly, pointing towards the road.

"This is such a bad idea." Enjolras muttered as he and Eponine climbed into the car. He started the engine, and drove slowly behind Jehan and Courfeyrac's cars to the party.

-ooo-

Jehan shared a house with Courfeyrac and Bahorel, it was a few blocks away from Enjolras's apartment. It was a small house, two stories, yellow with blue trim with a large porch and a tire swing in the front yard. Someone had parked their car on the lawn, and Jehan was jumping out of his car and racing towards the car.

After parking the Prius accross the street Grantaire stumbled accross the blacktop and onto the lawn where he collapsed under the oak tree for a moment, laughing like a mad man, before wandering inside. Eponine and Enjolras walked over to the house, and nodded to Courfeyrac who was spinning on the tire swing. Eponine let out a low whistle when she saw the inside of the house. "Not bad." She said, flopping down on the large brown couch. "Not bad at all."

Bahorel was in the kitchen, pouring drinks into large glasses, laughing at a joke he'd heard 100 times before. Enjolras walked around for a while, but when Courfeyrac put The Little Mermaid soundtrack on he gave up and went outside. The frontyard was deserted except for Grantaire who was sitting by himself on the tire swing. "Hey." Enjolras said, sitting on the grass next to the tree.

"Hey." Grantaire responded quietly. He was staring up at the sky, his black curls falling around his face, framing his porcelain skin. "So, what brings you out here."

Enjolras shrugged, leaning against the tree, his legs folded beneath him. "Couf started crying over the Little Mermaid soundtrack. What about you?"

"I like looking at the stars when I'm drunk." He gestured to the multitude of twinkiling lights in against the black sky. "Gives me perspective. Lets me see that were all insignificant in the grand scheme." He spun a few times on the swing while he spoke, "It's sort of weird, but it's a little bit comforting. Knowing that, in a sense, nothing really matters." he continued to stare into the void of space for a while, and then ceased his spinning. "No one really cared about me when I was little. So knowing were all unimportant makes me feel better about me extreme lack of purpose in life."

Enjolras stood up, and offered his hand to Grantaire, "maybe we should talk somewhere more private." He jammed his finger towards Jehan and Eponine who were laughing loudly and stumbling around the lawn.

Grantaire looked at him for a moment, before taking his hand. "Roof?" He asked nodding towards the drain pipe that ran down the side of the house. "No one's up there." Enjolras nodded, and followed the other boy to the side of the house. "Here, just follow me." Grantaire ran towards the wall, and gripped the edge of the roof, swinging his legs up he ungracefully climbed onto the roof. "Come on." He reached his hand down to Enjolras, a wide smile spreading accross his face.

Enjolras took Grantaire hand, gripped onto the pipe, and began to climb up the wall. "Fuck!" He muttered as the shingles of the roof scraped some skin off of his hands. Brushing himself off he stood, looking around.

"Great view huh?" Grantaire stood beside him, looking over the town. From their view point they could see the skyline of the small city against the dark sky.

"Yea." Enjolras walked to the middle of the roof where part of it was higher than the others because it covered a window. "So, what were you saying before?"

Grantaire sat down next to Enjolras on the roof, and looked out at the skyline. "Well, when I was 8 my Dad walked out, leaving my Mom to take care of me. She tried he best, but she worked all the time, and didn't seem to really care about me all that much. No one really seemed to care about me when I was little, I guess that's why I crave attention now. Why I annoy people, and argue. Because I know I'm effecting someone's life, I make an impact in some way. Once in 6th grade, just to see if anyone actually cared, I told everyone I had appendicitis. People actually seemed worried about me for once, I got at least 30 get well cards. And I still have all of them, 13 years later, in a box under my bed. But when a girl in my class asked me if she could see the scar I went home, got the scissors, and made one. Just so no one would know I lied, because I wanted people to care." He shook his head, chuckling softly. "But when I look at the stars, I remember that one day I'll be dead, and no one will care anymore. And that helps sometimes." Enjolras looked at the cynic with wide eyes as he pulled the edge of his shirt up, revealing a long scar just above his right hip, it was slightly red against his pale skin. "It was stupid, but I wanted to know at least one person cared."

"Grantaire I had no idea." Enjolras whispered placing a hand on his shoulder, concern painted accross his face.

The dark haired boy shook his head and raised a hand, "Please, I don't need you pity. I've come to terms with my own mortality. I don't need anyone to care anymore."

"But I care." Enjolras whispered, barley audible. "You were there for me today, and last night you were there. You've always been there. And I care about you." Grantaire turned to face him, a weak smile on his lips. "I care about your lonley soul." He said, wrapping his hands around the cynic's torso, drawing him close.

"I care about you too." Grantaire whispered back, holding the boy in his arms like he had the night before, and rested his chin on Enjolras's head. He ran a few fingers through the golden locks for a while, wathing the stars twinkel in the night as they sat on Jehan's roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SpaciousSpace-Gnantaire


	3. Daydreams Become Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras decides he needs to go home from the party, they find themselves in an awkward situation. Eponine and Combeferre both become cockblocks, and Enjolras majorly screws things up.
> 
> "I feel like such a pitiful little kid." He mutered angrily into Grantaire's chest. "I'm an adult, but I can't even sleep properly."
> 
> "You're not pitiful, you're a wonderful leader and an amazing person." Grantaire carded his fingers through the golden locks of hair. "You're so much stronger than anyone else I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring you angst. I have no idea where this came from. Enjoy?

Grantaire gently carded his fingers through Enjolras's hair as they sat on the roof looking at the stars. "This is nice." He heard the other boy say softly.

"It is." He replied as Eponine's voice drifted up through the night air. 

"Hey love birds! I wanna' go home!" She yelled up at them, slurring her words together. "I'm fucking drunk!" 

Combeferre appeared a moment later, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Eponine, don't be a cockblock." He whispered, sending the girl into a bought of uncontrollable laughter. "Here, I'll drive you home." He pushed his glasses up on his nose and guided her towards his blue car. 

Enjolras blushed noticeably when Combeferre called Eponine a cockblock, and buried his face further into Grantaire's shirt. "So you guys live together?" He tried to change the subject, squeezing the cynic's waist a bit.

"Yea, we've been friends since we were little. Ep's not a bad room mate, sometimes a bit annoying, but overall pretty normal." He shrugged, looking down at the intoxicated boy. "I don't mess with her pining after Marius, she doesn't mess with my drinking."

Enjolras looked up at him, fixing his bright blue eyes on Grantaire, "You're a really good person, Grantaire. I mean it." Just like Eponine his words were slightly slurred, and he was noticeably drunk.

The cynic shook his head, dark curls bouncing slightly, "I'm really not. You're just drunk."

"Yes you are. You're so nice to me, even when I'm a total dick to you." Enjolras smiled up at him before an odd look crossed his face. "I think I'm going to-" He stopped midsentence, untangled himself from Grantaire, and crawled quickly to the edge of the roof and promptly began wretching.

"Enj!" He jumped up and sat down next to the blond, pulling his hair away from his face. He placed a protective hand on the boys back as he threw up on the lawn below. Enjolras continued to vomit off of the roof, spasms going through his body as he gasped for air in between boughts of sickness. "You'll be okay Apollo." He rubbed circles into his back, trying to calm the boy.

"I want to go home." Enjolras mumbled a moment later, after he was done. He rocked back on his heels, hugging his legs to his chest, staring blankly at the sky. "I feel like shit."

Grantaire chuckled and brushed a stray hair out of Enjolras's face. "Okay, whatever you wish my Apollo." He walked over to the window, pushed it open and helped Enjolras climb in. "There you go." He followed through the window. 

The room they entered appeared to be empty at first, but a creak of a bed came from the corner, followed by a low groan. "Fuck yes." A familiar voice drifted through the darkness to where Grantaire and Enjolras were standing.

"Shit!" Grantaire grabbed Enjolras's shirt and dragged him into the shadows below a desk. They crouched next to the chair, watching a figure move up and down at a rapid pace. 

Courfeyrac's face became visible for a quick second as he thrust down on the other person, letting out a deep groan. "Jehan." He moaned, eliciting a whimper from the boy below him. "Yes! Yes! YES!" He cried out as he rode Prouvaire violently.

"We need to leave. Like now." Grantaire hissed, tugging on Enjolras's shirt, and began to crawl towards the door at the other end of the room. More groans and grunts came from the bed, which Courfeyrac was sharing with the poet. Enjolras made a soft protest at the movement, but followed the cynic towards the door. 

Grantaire was trying to ignore the whimpers Jehan was making, while also trying to make sure Enjolras didn't collapse on the floor. "Come on!" He called over his shoulder. The door was getting closer and closer, the sounds of the party drifting upstairs, light poured from the crack under the door. He reached up and slowly turned the knob, praying to a god he didn't believe in, that it wouldn't make much noise. The door gave a small creak, which was drowned out by Jehan's moaning, as it was opened.

Moving as quickly as he could, Grantaire crawled out of the room and leaned up against the wall. Enjolras was a few paces behind him, but once he emerged he collapsed against the wall. "I still feel like shit." He muttered, rubbing a palm down his face, rubbing the residue of vomit from the edge of his lip. 

"That happens when you drink that much." Grantaire stood up slowly, and extended his hand to the inebriated boy. "Lets get you home."

"Okay." He accepted the hand, but needed some help standing properly. The stairs were another problem, to which the solution was Grantaire carrying Enjolras bridal style down them and into the living room below. A chorus of cheers erupted from the remaining Amis when they saw the cynic carrying their leader. "Fuck off!" Enjolras spat before pressing his face into Grantaire's neck as they left the house and headed towards his car.

"You can't drive." Grantaire extended his hand expectantly. Enjolras reluctantly handed him his keys, before climbing into the passenger seat. "Okay, where's your house?"

There was no answer. In a surprising twist of fate Enjolras and Grantaire had switched places from their encounter the night before. Enjolras was passed out in the passenger seat, Grantaire driving, needing to get the other home. "Well shit." He bit his lip, watching the steady rise and fall of the other boy's chest. "What the fuck do I do now?" Going inside to ask for directions was out of the question, he didn't need more wolf whistles and suggestive glances directed at him. And Enjolras was way to peaceful to disturb, his expression was relaxed, his usual scowl was replaced by a pleased smile. "Home it is." Grantaire muttered, pulling out into the street, and heading back to his apartment.

-ooo-

Grantaire climbed the stairs to the apartment with Enjolras in his arms. Eponine had left the door unlocked, making it easier to half-guide, half-carry Enjolras inside. Without flicking the light on he manuvered the younger boy through the living room and into his bedroom. He shut the door, and turned on his desk light, casting odd shadows around the room. Enjolras, now partially awake, stumbled towards the bed and quickly stripped to his black boxers before climbing under the sheets. "Um...okay then."

Grantaire watched to boy for a moment as he shifted, trying to get comfortable in the foreign bed. His golden hair was splayed out on his pillow, creating a halo around his head. Removing his clothes quickly, Grantaire climbed into the other side of the bed, staying as far away from the other boy as possible. He sighed deeply, "What have I gotten into." Shaking his head, Grantaire laid down and let sleep overcome him.

-ooo-

What felt like moments later Grantaire awoke to a warm body pressed firmly against his chest. Cracking an eye open he was met with terrified blue eyes. "Enj-ras?" He muttered, running a hand over his face, clearing his vision. The eyes looking back at him were wide with fear, and were tear streaked.

"I'm sorry." The boy whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up but I had another nightmare. And I saw Eponine being tortured, and then Joly was in the hospital, and you were dead." He looked away, wiping a tear from his cheek. "I'm sorry, just go back to sleep."

Grantaire lightly gripped his arm, pulling his closer. "Hey, it's okay. You've had a rough night." Enjolras wrapped his arms around the dark haired boy. 

"I feel like such a pitiful little kid." He muttered angrily into Grantaire's chest. "I'm an adult, but I can't even sleep properly."

"You're not pitiful, you're a wonderful leader and an amazing person." Grantaire carded his fingers through the golden locks of hair. "You're so much stronger than anyone else I know."

Enjolras looked up at him with large, childlike eyes. "You really think that?"

He nodded slowly, "I think you're perfect. You're beautiful, Enjolras."

A long pause followed, broken only when Enjolras abruptly pressed his lips against Grantaire's. The kiss was soft and chaste, only lasting a few seconds. "I'm sorry. I just had to do that." The blonde blushed scarlet red, looking away from the other boy. "I get it if you want me to leave now."

"No." Grantaire gripped his hand, placing his other hand on Enjolras's neck. Slowly he pulled the blonde closer to him, kissing his more deeply. The other boy stiffened slightly before relaxing and opening his mouth slightly. "Enj-ras." Grantaire whispered softly into his mouth.

They broke apart a few seconds later, both slightly out of breath. "So, that happened." Grantaire said sheepishly, running a hand through his dark mass of curls.

"Yea, it did." Enjolras agreed, twisting his fingers nervously. "I really like you." He whispered softly, pressing against Grantaire's chest, wrapping his arms around the other boy.

Grantaire couldn't think straight, and the two words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Me too." He could feel Enjolras's nails digging into his back as they embrace, they will definitely leave marks.

Enjolras nodded immeasurably against his bare chest. "You really are a good person." He said before laying back down against his pillow.

"You need your rest Apollo." Grantaire planted a soft kiss upon his temple, brushing some hair out of his face. "Sweet dreams."

-ooo-

Enjolras rolled over, shielding his eyes from the stream of light coming from the window. "Morning beautiful." Grantaire said groggily. He was looking up at Enjolras, black hair going in every direction.

"Shut up." Enjolras playfully shoved his shoulder.

Grantaire stuck his tongue out at him, "Seriously, you look like concentrated sex." He leaned in pressing their lips together, his hands fisting into Enjolras's golden hair. Their tongues danced as their hand roamed freely across each other’s bodies, taking in each ridge and valley of their muscles. "God you're hot." Grantaire breathed, running his tongue across his lower lip. Enjolras twisted his fingers into Grantaire's hair, eliciting a whimper form the cynic.

As they memorized each other’s bodies, fingers frantically searching for contact, a soft knock came from the other side of the door. "Hey, Grantaire can I-" Combeferre froze, eyes widened when he saw the boys entwined, half naked on the bed. Enjolras had wrapped both arms around Grantaire, who was now sucking at his collarbone, love bites covering his neck. Scratches covered the cynic's back, the angry red lines stood out against his pale skin. Soft moans escaped the blonde's lips, and his eyes fluttered slightly, and then shot open when he saw the guide at the door.

"Combeferre!" He cried, detaching himself from the dark haired boy, trying to cover his chest with the blankets. Grantaire let out a quiet whimper at the loss of contact, and turned to face Combeferre, who’s eyes had gotten even wider.

"I'll just-" He turned hastily moving towards the door, head down.

Enjolras jumped out of the bed and raced towards him. "No, Ferre' seriously!"

"Seriously Enjolras, I don't need to see this. It's your personal business who you have sex with." The guide placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"No, no, no! Combeferre, It's not like that!" Enjolras pleaded, turning bright red. His throat seemed suddenly dry, and he couldn't properly form words. "It's just um- stress relief!" Trying frantically to explain his actions without revealing his extreme attraction to the cynic, an attraction that he didn't fully understand.

"Stress relief!" Grantaire yelled from his bed. "Is that all I fucking am to you?" He stood up, not bothering to put any clothes on. His movements were rigid, and the anger was visible on his face and in his voice. The cynic stood next to Enjolras with a hurt look in his eyes.

He tried to back track, "It's not like that! Grantaire I swear!"

"Of course it isn't. It's not like that. It never is." He spat, grabbing a shirt and some pants off of the floor, he stormed out of the room and into the kitchen. "I hate you!" He screamed, grabbing a bottle of whiskey off the table, and slamming the apartment door behind him.

Enjolras slid down the wall and onto the floor, "What have I done." He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

A cheeky smile crossed Combeferre's face, "So it was like that."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://24.media.tumblr.com/d7234bd7e2df613344f78736549c695f/tumblr_mhdcpx0ckF1qa3pa1o1_500.png
> 
> I'm sorry! D':  
> I really have no idea where this came from, but here it is.
> 
> http://media-cache-ec7.pinterest.com/550x/94/23/c9/9423c9258aa4bd27975bdf0f2a7c5d89.jpg


	4. An Upright Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No." Grantaire interrupted his excitement. "Get out of here. I never want to see you again." He turned away from the blonde, facing the wall.
> 
> Enjolras froze, "What?"
> 
> "I said get lost, fuck off, go away. I never want to see you again." His voice was pained, and rattled in an odd way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm going to New Orleans from Monday to Friday and I may not have internet so there might not be any updates sorry! D:

Grantaire pulled on his jeans as he raced down the stairs, tears ran down his cheeks. His sobs echoed around the stairwell, waking the neighbors. The bottle of whiskey in his hand felt heavy, and precious. He threw the door open, sunlight flooding over him. Breaking into a fun he tore down the street, half naked, sobbing, and clutching a bottle of whiskey. The cynic had no idea where he was going, but he knew he needed to get far away.

People watched as the wreck of a young man ran through the streets, tears falling from his eyes. He kept running until his legs felt numb, and then kept running. When Grantaire finally stopped he collapsed in a field. It was a park, a stream babbled away a few feet to his right. Pulling his legs up near his chest he sobbed for what felt like an eternity.

It felt like a someone had shot him in the chest and then lit him on fire. Tremors wracked his body while he cried, remembering holding Enjolras on the roof and in bed while he cried. He felt utterly alone, just like he'd been for so may years. Remembering the pain of the scissors when he had made the scar. Back then people didn't care until he was in danger. Maybe now if he was in danger, Enjolras might see how he'd hurt him.

He crawled slowly to the park bench next to him. No one was around to see him drain the whiskey in record time. With a strangled sob he smashed the end of the bottle on the side of the bench. The glass shattered, flying onto the grass and around him. "I love you!" He screamed, startling a group of crows in a nearby tree. "Do you hear me? I love you!" He sobbed, dragging the ragged edge of the bottle along his forearm, carving a word into his skin. It stung, the memory of when he'd marked himself before was still fresh in his mind as the blood started to flow from his arm, staining his pants and the grass below him.

The crows he had frightened earlier began to fly towards him, and he felt light headed. They cawed and flew towards him at an alarming speed. Grantaire screamed once before he dropped the bottle and collapsed onto the bench, his blood dripping onto the grass. "I love you." He whispered, watching the blood flow from his arm as his vision swam in and out, before the world turned black.

-ooo-

Enjolras sat motionless against the wall, his face buried in his hands. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" He muttered angrily "I totally fucked things up!" Fisting a hand into his hair he pulled hard, trying to sort out his thoughts.

"Maybe I should just go." Combeferre tried to stand up, but the blonde gripped his arm like a vice.

His blue eyes were like daggers in the guide's skin. "You're not going anywhere. You're involved whether you like it or not."

"Okay fine." He squirmed in the other man's grip. "Seriously you're going to give me a bruise! I'm like a spring peach, I bruise easily!"

Enjolras just looked at him with a confused expression, "A spring peach?"

Combeferre nodded fiercely, "Yes, a round baby peach. Now, let go." The blonde relaxed his grip, and stood up with the boy. "Thank you. Now we can go look for Grantaire."

Enjolras threw on his shirt and pants before following Combeferre out of the apartment and down the stairs. "You did kind of fuck up, it's not entirely my fault." The brunette said softly as they left the building.

"Shut up." Enjolras retorted, walking up to an old homeless woman sitting on the curb. "Have you seen a boy with dark hair and a whiskey bottle recently?

She laughed for a moment, "Yea, he was sobbing like an idiot. He went that way." She pointed down the street. "He was kinda' hot too."

Turning briskly they followed the woman's directions, and raced after the cynic. The street split after a while, "You head up towards the park. I'll go to the mall." Enjolras waved Combeferre off, facing towards the city center.

Combeferre adjusted his glasses before continuing down the road to the local park. It was usually deserted at this time on a Wednesday, and as he approached only the soft calls of songbirds could be heard. The park was quite large, covering about a mile and a half of land in the middle of the city. He walked slowly, taking in the scenery, the huge pine trees and the little stream that ran next to the path. He was quite sure that Grantaire wasn't in the park, and even if he was he would be sitting on a bench drinking, there was no real reason to run.

-ooo-

Checking his watch Combeferre saw it was about 10:45am, it had been about an hour since Grantaire had run off crying. "He's probably back at the apartment with Eponine. This is useless." He muttered while walking down the path, his eyes fixed on the ground. "What the fuck?" He mumbled as his foot landed in something wet. "Gross." Shaking his shoe, little drops of a red liquid were showered onto the ground. Looking up Combeferre let out a shriek.

On the park bench was the limp body of Grantaire, blood dripped from his arm, and was puddling on the grass and trail. "Grantaire!" He raced towards the boy, glass crunching under his feet. "Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" Placing a hand on the boy's neck he felt a very faint heartbeat. "Stay with me!" Combeferre whipped out his phone and called 911. He cut off the operator before she sound finish her opening sentence. "I'm in the local park, near the pond. My friend's bleeding and unconscious. I need an ambulance, now!"

"Wait Sir, slow down. Where are you?" The woman's voice was calm and collected, the sound of a pencil scratching in the distance.

The guide shook his head, pressing a hand to Grantaire's arm, trying to stop the bleeding. "The park, near the pond. Get an ambulance. Now."

"They'll be right there sir." She said before the line clicked dead.

Turning his attention back to Grantaire, Combeferre applied more pressure to the wound, blood streaming down his hands, staining his shirt red. "Don't you dare fucking die on me. Grantaire I swear to god, if you die I'll never forgive myself." His eyes flicked around, spotting the shattered bottle next to the bench. "Why would you do this? Why?" He yelled at the unconscious boy next to him. "You're such a fucking idiot sometimes!"

The distant blare of sirens told Combeferre that the ambulance was near. Underneath his fingers Grantaire's pulse was growing even fainter, and the rise and fall of his chest was becoming shallower every second. "Come on R. Just a little longer." He silently cursed himself for not being more concerned earlier, and wasting time. "This is al my fault." He muttered as the ambulance pulled up behind him, paramedics racing towards them.

"Sir, please stand back." One of the paramedics with long dark hair gently pushed Combeferre away from the unconscious cynic. "We need trauma kits ASAP! He's lost lots of blood." Placing a finger on Grantaire's pulse point she yelled out to a man with a clipboard. "Heartbeat low, Class 5 hemorrhaging, life threatening wounds."

Combeferre tried to get closer to his friend, "Taire! R! Grantaire!" Another medic was pulling him back towards the ambulance.

"Sir you need to stand back so she can work. We're doing out best, but he's lost a critical amount of blood." He thrashed against the medic, crying out to Grantaire. "Sir! You need to stand back!" He restated himself, pushing the guide even further away.

The other three medics were putting Grantaire onto a stretcher and loading him into the ambulance. His dark curls were plastered to his forehead, and his skin was deathly pale. Already wires and IV's had been inserted into his other arm, the wounded one was wrapped in bandages, but the blood was quickly soaking through. "You need to get in the ambulance sir." The medic guided Combeferre into the vehicle, and told him to sit on the bench next to Grantaire's stretcher.

Once the door of the ambulance closed and they began to move everything became a blur. The changing of bandages, the beeping of machines, and the frantic movements of the medics. Combeferre's brain didn't seem to process information properly anymore as they arrived at the hospital, and he followed the medics into the ER in a daze. A curtain was pulled, separating him from the cynic, forcing him to sit in the single chair and run his fingers through his hair, wondering how his actions had indirectly resulted in his friend being connected to life support.

-ooo-

"What?" Enjolras clutched his phone tightly in one hand, not believing Combeferre's words. He swallowed waiting for the guide to retract his previous statement.

"He's in the hospital Enjolras." Combeferre's voice was shaky, the beeping of machines in the background.

"This isn't funny Combeferre." He whispered, in complete denial, sitting on a bench in the mall where he'd been looking for Grantaire. He frequented the mall, booze was cheap there.

The phone was silent for a while, but the sound of medics yelling to each other drifted through, "Class 5 hemorrhaging, 50% survival rate!"

"We need you here." Combeferre said before the line clicked dead.

Enjolras stared ahead for a while, letting Combeferre's words sink in. Grantaire's in the hospital. He's lost a lot of blood, you need to get here now. He ran a hand through his hair sighing deeply. Class 5 hemorrhaging. His pulse sped up, and his breathing was getting ragged. 50% survival rate. Then it clicked, Grantaire might die, and it was all his fault because he was scared to admit his feelings.

Jumping up, Enjolras raced out of the mall, passing the Abercrombie and Fitch model without even looking at his abs. He raced and hailed a cab. "The hospital on North Elm." He rubbed his face, trying to clear his head of the panic that had set in. "Calm down, he's going to be fine." He muttered to himself as the hospital came into view. "He's fine, Combeferre's wrong. Grantaire's not going to die."

"Alright, $7.85." He paid his fare, and raced into the lobby, throwing the doors open rather dramatically.

A woman waiting in her chair looked rather startled when the blonde marched up the front desk. "I need to get in to see Grantaire, he's my-" Enjolras stopped midsentence. What was their relationship? Friends? Co-workers? Classmates? Boyfriends? "I need to see Grantaire."

"Take a seat." The man behind the desk waved towards the other people in the room.

"Fuck you!" He yelled angrily, sprinting through the doors to the e/R just as a nurse left. The receptionist yelled something at him, but he couldn't make out the words. A nurse in pink scrubs was passing down an empty hallway when he turned a corner. Seizing his opportunity, Enjolras grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her into the wall. "Where is the ICU?"

She let out a shriek before pointing down the hall, "Take the first left!" He nodded thanks, smoothing her shit back out, trying to make up for the assault, before running down the hall. The girl shook her head. "God I hate when that happens."

Enjolras ran towards the ICU, passing many confused looking nurses and receiving many annoyed looks from doctors. "Grantaire!" He cried when he reached the bay filled with many nurses, doctors, and people in varying states of death. "Grantaire!" Looking around frantically he couldn't locate the cynic in the room of bleeding and dying people.

"Enjolras!" Feuilly called from a room on the far end of the bay, waving his arm. "He's in here!"

Breaking into a sprint Enjolras maneuvered through the many stretchers and wheelchairs to reach the small room. "Feuilly, what happened?"

The worker shook his head, "Combeferre's not talking." Once inside, it was apparent that all of the Amis were present, including Marius, Eponine and Cossete, all of them crammed into the small room, made smaller by the curtain that separated them from Grantaire. "He's stable though. You can go in if you want."

Enjolras walked stiffly towards the curtain, but Cossete gripped his wrist, "It's pretty bad. Are you sure?" He nodded, and pulled his arm away, striding past the curtain.

The sight that greeted him was nothing he could have prepared for. Grantaire was deathly pale, his eyes were sunken, and his usually unruly dark curls were plastered to his forehead. Tubes and wires were connected to one of his arms, the other was wrapped in white cloth with patches of blood soaking through. An oxygen tube was connected to his nose, and an IV dripped a clear liquid into his veins. In the completely white room only his dark hair and blood stood out, giving him an ethereal look. The cynic Enjolras knew so well looked defeated, trapped in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines that kept him alive.

"Grantaire." He breathed softly, staring at his friend laying unconscious in front of him. "I'm so sorry." Enjolras sat down in the small plastic chair next to the bed. A machine above his head beeped softly, a heat rate monitor, at a much slower pace than was normal.

Curling up into a ball on the chair, Enjolras entwined his fingers with Grantaire's before falling into a dreamless sleep.

-ooo-

When he woke up it was about 5:30 and Enjolras's back was killing him. The small plastic chair was not made to sleep in. Stretching briefly he stood and whet to the bathroom before returning to his post by Grantaire's bedside. The Amis had all gone home, leaving Enjolras on his own. Grantaire looked more peaceful now, more like he was sleeping and not dying. Entwining their fingers once more he felt a clench of the cynic’s hand.

Looking up at him were the large blue eyes that he loved so much. "Grantaire!" He cried ecstatically, tempted to jump onto the bed and hug him. "Thank god you're alive!"

"No." Grantaire interrupted his excitement. "Get out of here. I never want to see you again." He turned away from the blonde, facing the wall.

Enjolras froze, "What?"

"I said get lost, fuck off, go away. I never want to see you again." His voice was pained, and rattled in an odd way.

"Why would you do this Grantaire? I didn't mean it, I swear! Why did you do this?" Enjolras asked the question that had been on his mind for the last few hours. The question that had been driving him insane.

The cynic paused for a while before turning back to Enjolras, locking a vicious icy blue gaze on him. "Stress relief." He spat the words out like they were poising. Just as he said them the machine above his head let out a series of high-pitched noises, his gaze became distant and hazy, and he slumped back against the pillows. The machine lat out a single long beep. Grantaire had flat lined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Will you put in your notes  
> that SpaciousSpace  
> Says  
> that Dewpaw  
> kicked AO3's ass?"  
> -SpaciousSpace


	5. Can People Really Fall In Love So Fast?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Enjolras are you-" Courfeyrac started before the blonde cut him off quickly.  
> "I don't have to sit here and take your shit." He said annoyed, "I'll see you guys later." Enjolras stood up and strode quickly out of the Musain, slamming the door behind him.  
> Eponine turned to Combeferre, Jehan, and Courfeyrac. "Did he just-"  
> "Indeed he did." Jehan nodded with a wide grin quickly spreading accross his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there are a few reasons why it took so long for this update.  
> 1-There was no internet access on the 7 hour plane ride, and I write in AO3 directly. So no internet means no writing.  
> 2-My laptop has an awful battery that goes from 10% to dead in about an hour.  
> 3-I had this chapter done, and ready to post last night. But, my computer crashed right as I was posting it, and I lost the entire chapter. SO I had to re-write the entire thing from memory tonight.  
> 4-New Orleans distracts me easily...

Grantaire felt like his heart was ripping out of his chest as he began to fall backwards. Enjolras's face became blurry and unfocused moments before the world went dark. He tried to scream but he blacked out before he could make a sound, all of his senses failing to work simultaneously.

-ooo-

"Grantaire,I-um." Enjolras voice drifted through the fog of Grantaire's mind. He opened his eyes, only seeing black before him, he wasn't able to move or speak. Only stay where he was, and listen to Enjolras. Someone was gripping his right hand, the blonde no doubt. "I don't know what to say."  _Then don't say anything._  He thought angrily, trying to block out the boy's voice. "I just panicked. How am I supposed to admit something to Combeferre, when I can't even admit it to myself." Enjolras paused for a moment, before continuing, "You've always been important to me. I've always cared about you. I just didn't know how to tell you about how I-uh... feel about you." Grantaire flinched inwardly,  _Don't pity me. I don't need your pity_.

"I remember when Courfeyrac convinced you to play soccer with him a few summers ago. I walked outside of Musain, and you were wearing only your shorts and were covered in sweat."  _Why are you telling me this?_  "And I um... I got hard. It scared me, being attracted to a guy, being attracted to one of my friends. How was I supposed to deal with that?"  _What?_  He thought wearily, his mind trying to understand the information being given to him.

"I just though, maybe if I pushed you further away from me I might stop having feelings for you. It worked for a while, until you started dating Babet. When I found out I wanted to die. You loved someone else, and it was hell. I just cried all night after I found out. That's when the nightmares started, and they didn't stop until you found out. You kept them away, and I felt happy for once." Grantiare couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. The boy he had idolized and loved for years was telling him he loved him back. He'd dated Montaparnasse to annoy Enjolras, and to try and get his attention. Apparently it had worked. "And then I fucked everything up. Why would you do this?"  _Because I can't live without you. Because I am nothing on my own._

"Please don't leave me." He could feel Enjolras release his hand and climb onto the bed. "I can't live without you." The boy was pressed up against his body now, his face buried in Grantaire's chest. "Don't leave me, Grantaire."  _I'm not leaving._

-ooo-

"Sir, you need to leave. We need to run vitals on the patient." The nurse shook Enjolras's shoulder lightly, waking him from his sleep. He was in the hospital bed, pressed up against Grantiare. Looking up, he recognized the woman who had dragged him out of the room after Grantaire had flat lined.

He'd had a melt down and started screaming, sobbing, and yelling when the doctors had rushed in a moment after their exchange. They had to drag him away from the boy in the bed as he screamed for Grantaire. "Um, yea sure." He said sheepishly, climbing off of the bed.

"He's going to be okay." She said, writing down something on her clipboard. "Don't worry too much, he's going to live. He just needs to wake up."

"Really?"

"Yes. And he obviously cares about you." She brushed a lock of red hair out of her eyes, while adjusting the liquid flow into his IV. "Why else would he do this?"

Enjolras pondered her words as he headed toars the cafeteria. He muttered nonsense to himself while passing other patients in the halls. It was only 9:00am, but the hospital was in full swing, people rushing down the hallways to operating rooms and to check-ups.

As he placed a miniature box of cereal on his tray, his phone buzzed in his pocket. #We need to talk -Combeferre# He swallowed nervously, sending another text. #Why, I'm kind of busy -E#

His reply came a moment later, #Enjolras, I get that you're in a difficult situation right now. But we need to talk about Grantaire, soon.#

He sighed, and shoved the phone back in his pocket, continuing to eat his cereal in silence. He needed time to think about what to do when Grantaire woke up.  _If he wakes up._  His brain muttered darkly. "No, he's fine. He's going to be okay." He whispered to himself when he had finished his food.

Enjolras stood up, threw out his trash, and wandered back to Grantaire's room. Along the way he passed a few people in wheel chairs and a teenager who's arm had been broken. He's fine. He's fine. He's fine. He kept repeating to himself while walking through the ICU. When he entered the room Grantaire was still unconsience on the bed.

The cynic was naked from the waist up, wearing only his boxers. There were two red marks from the defeibrilatior the doctor had used to restart his heart. "He's caught an infection from the bottle. Right now he's in a coma, but he's stable. He just needs to wake up, then we can properly assess the extent of the infection. Until then we can't do much else other than make him comfortable, and hope he wakes up soon." The doctor had told him once he's stopped sobbing and screaming.

Now Grantaire was laying peacefully on the bed, hair sticking out at odd angles, and a small smirk on his lips. "I'm so sorry." He mumbled, resuming his place next to the cynic. "Please, forgive me." Enjolras pressed his face into the boy's shoulder and tried to ignore the beeping coming from the heart rate monitor.

Grantaire looked so weak, covered in sweat and laying in the large bed. He looked small and child-like in the hospital bed with Enjolras wrapped around him. Enjolras hated seeing the cynic so defeated, but there was nothing he could do to help, other than be there when he woke up. He entwined their hands again, squeezing tightly. Enjolras stared up at the ceiling for a while, and tried not to think about why Grantaire had tried to kill himself. Absent mindedly, he traced his finger over the scar above the dark haired boy's hip.

About an hour later he sat up, deciding that Combeferre was right, they needed to talk. As he swung his legs off of the bed, eh was sure Grantaire had squeezed his hand. "Grantaire?" The only response was the steady beat of the boy's heart.

-ooo-

Enjolras walked into the Musain silently, and took the seat next to Combeferre at the back table. The cafe was deserted besides the table occupied by Combeferre, Jehan, Courfeyrac, Eponine, and himself. "Hey." Eponine said softly, stirring her coffee with the bright red straw.

"Hi." He replied, draping his sweatshirt over the back of the chair. "So, what do we need to talk about?"

"Well," Combeferre began, picking at the blueberry muffin infront of him. "we needed to talk to you about Grantaire. And his recent episode." Jehan nodded, gripping Courfeyrac's hand in his. Enjolras sighed, and shifted in his seat. "Eponine and I agree that there is more to this then either of you are admitting."

"There isn't, we're just friends." He lied, flipping through the menu, even though he had it memorized. "Honestly."

Jehan gave him a concerned look, "Enjolras, I'm a poet. Romance is sort of my thing."

"What are you implying?" Enjolras muttered in annoyance.

"We all know this is much more serious. But how serious, we have no idea." The poet replied, sipping some of his tea casually. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, just a natural human experience."

Enjolras shook his head, "There's nothing, we're just friends."

"Enjolras, Combeferee told us what happened." Eponine offered kindly, concern and understanding on her face. "It's nothing to be ashamed about."

Enjolras leaned back in his seat, "Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated?" He spat out, standing up, "I'm getting coffee."

Combeferre ran a hand through his hair, "This is much more serious that I thought."

"What did you expect? It's Enjolras, he's not going to admit to anything emotional." Courfeyrac chuckled lightly, taking a bite of his danish.

Eponine drank some coffee, "Grantaire's been pining after him for almost three years now. He's always been sort of depressed. But something must have triggered this. He'd never try anything like this if he thought he still had a chance." She watched Enjolras ordering his coffee with a frown. "Enjolras doing what Combeferre said wouldn't have done it alone. It must have been the last straw."

"Fine. What is it?" Enjorlas sat back down, sipping his organic, fair-trade coffee.

Combeferre sighed, and Eponine spoke up. "He's been in love with you for a long time Enjolras."

"No he hasn't. I would have known." The blonde shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly.

Jehan touched his arm, "Listen, we all can see it. He's crazy about you."

"Enj?" Combeferre whispered. The blonde was hunched over the table, and was shaking slightly. "Are you okay?"

There was no response for a while, "No, I'm not okay. My friend tried to kill himself because I was an idiot, and yor telling me he loves me! How could I be okay?" He shot angrily at them. 

Jehan squeezed his hand softly, "It's not your fault Enjolras."

"Yes it is! He's in a coma because I lied!" An odd silence fell over the room after Enjolras yelled at the group. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. The others stared at their leader in shock, he'd admitted to something they never thought he was capable of. He'd always detested romantic relationships, and had never showed any signs of attraction to another person. Patria was the only thing he seemed to truly love. No one would have guessed that he'd taken a liking to the resident cynic.

"Enjolras are you-" Courfeyrac started before the blonde cut him off quickly.

"I don't have to sit here and take your shit." He said annoyed, "I'll see you guys later." Enjolras stood up and strode quickly out of the Musain, slamming the door behind him.

Eponine turned to Combeferre, Jehan, and Courfeyrac. "Did he just-"

"Indeed he did." Jehan nodded with a wide grin quickly spreading accross his lips.

-ooo-

Grantaire missed the warmth of Enjolras pressed up against him, and felt alone floating in the void of his coma. He'd heard one of the nurses talking to the doctor. Apparently he'd caught an infection from the bottle, his luck was almost as bad a Lesgle's. And now he was in a coma for the foreseeable future.

He hadn't even begun to comprehend what Enjolras had said, but one part was repeating in his head.  _You've always been important to me. I've always cared about you._  He couldn't believe what he had heard, "I must just be dreaming." He muttered to himself, staring into the darkness. "He doesn't love me. I'm just a jaded, alcoholic cynic. He'll never feel that way." He reasone that when they had madeout, Enjolras was still drunk, and not interested even a little bit.

Sometimes his mind was Grantaire's own worst enemy. His constant self-doubt rendered himself capable of self-worth, making him doubt anyone's kindness towards him. In his mind he was worthless, only good to be mocked. This mindset was why he drank so much, being unaware of others allowed him to not loathe himself so much. Grantaire lived in self-hatred; his feelings of hate only fueled by others constant criticism of his drinking habits. Anytime he showed his face while drunk, which was often, someone would cut him down and dehumanize him. No one believed in him, and he believed in nothing.

Before his father had left Grantaire had been a child full of hope and faith in mankind. But when he walked out, Grantaire had lost any hope he had, and never had any faith in humans after that day. Why should he trust other people's words? His father had said he loved him, but abandoned him and his mother for another woman. And not even his mother seemed to care about him.

Nobody loved the cynic. Why believe the beautiful, blonde boy who claimed to have feelings for him, when all others had abandoned him? "He doesn't care."

-ooo- 

"Fuck." Enjolras threw his keys onto the couch of his apartment. He missed the smell his apartment had whenever Grantaire spent time there. The sweet mixture of caramel and whiskey was absent, and made his heart ache.

The hospital had sent him a text, informing him that Grantaire wasn't allowed to have another visotor for 48 hours. They wouldn't tell him why. "This sucks dick." He flopped down on the bed, curling slightly in on himself.  
  


Why did he have to fall in love with boy who didn't believe in love? Why did he always fuck things up so badly? The only person he'd ever been attracted to was in a coma because of him. Enjolras would often think himself into a rut, wherein he would tear himself up over a single idea or train of thought.

Obviously Eponine and the others were wrong, Grantaire didn't love him. He figured that when they had made out earlier Grantaire had been drunk, and he wasn't actually interested in Enjolras.

His entire adult life Enjolras had focused on politics, never having felt anything for another person. But when Grantaire entered his life, everything had changed. He'd often suspected that something was different about Grantaire than anyone else long before the soccer incident. But everything had really gotten started after that. Enjolras had started to pay more attention to the cyninc, and noticed how he was slowly destroying himself through alcohol. Grantaire was only concerned with getting drunk, he didn't love Enjolras. He'd been drunk when he'd tried to kill himself, it was Enjolras's fault for not stopping him.

"He doesn't care." Enjolras muttered, burying his face into the pillows before begining to cry softly. 


	6. The Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and is so short. Life got a bit.... interesting, meaning that I started watching Supernatural (what have i done). But here it is, there will be an update soon-ish. Big things planned!

Grantaire felt an odd warmth rush over him like a wave, as if his blood had turned to liquid fire. The heat was unbearable and he tried to scream as it engulfed him. A dull roar began in his ears, slowly growing louder and louder. A tingle ran up his spine as a blinding white light filled his vision.

"Grantaire?" Enjolras's voice drifted softly through the air as he became used to the light.

"Enj?" He asked when the blonde became visible, surrounded completely by white light. There was no response, but his face was filled with concern. The cynic walked closer to him, but the leaders blue eyes were focused on a distant point, not seeing him. "Enj, can you hear me?"

Enjolras craned his neck, seemingly looking for something in the void, "Where are you?"

"I'm here! Enjolras, I'm here!" Grantaire said frantically, gripping the other boy's shoulders, shaking him slightly. "I'm right here!"

Tears streaked the blonde's eyes as he crumpled to the ground, hugging his legs to his chest, "Grantaire, where did you go?"

"I didn't go anywhere! I'm here, I promise!" The cynic dropped to his knees, embracing Enjolras. "Why can't you hear me?"

The boy's body was wracked with sobs, "Why did you leave me?"

"I would never leave you! I swear!" Grantaire was beginning to cry now, shaking Enjolras's shoulders violently. "I'm here! I swear Enj, I'm not going anywhere!"

"Where are you?" Enjolras sobbed out once more before the room was filled with light again, obscuring his vision.

-ooo-

"Enjolras!" Grantaire yelled out, sitting bolt upright and snapping his eyes open. "Enjolras!" He repeated, looking around the hospital room rapidly, searching for the blonde. A nurse was standing next to his bed, writing something on a clipboard when he had screamed. Here eyes widened in shock, and jabbed a button on the wall before racing to the other side of the bed and fiddling with his heart rate monitor. "Enjolras!" He cried, scrabbling at the sheets and wires attached to him.

A moment later a doctor and a few other people raced into the room. "Make sure he's stable!" The doctor ordered, pressing Grantaire back onto the pillows. "You need to lay down son."

"No! I need to find him!" Grantaire struggled against the man, with a frantic look in his eyes. "Enjolras!"

A nurse called over the shouting that had filled the room in a matter of seconds. "Give him 200cc's of that." A nurse pointed towards the cabinet on the other end of the room. Another grabbed something out of it and injected it into his arm.

A familiar warmth washed over Grantaire as he thrashed helplessly on the bed. "Enjolras! Enjolras! Enjolras!" Repeated with panic rising in his voice, as if clinging to a lifeline. "Enjolras!" He said again before falling back onto the sheets, unconscious.

The doctor straightened up, "Check his vitals while he's out, make sure he's stable. Someone notify his contacts that he's awake."

-ooo- 

Enjolras was curled up on his bed when his phone vibrated on his desk, skittering across the wood and landing on the carpeted floor amongst a pile of worn shirts. He spared it a single glance before returning to staring blankly at the wall in front of him. It vibrated again, somewhat muffled by the laundry pile it now called home. The blonde curled into an even tighter ball, trying to ignore the blaring reminder that he couldn't stay locked up in his room forever, eventually he would have to face his friends.

He had hardly slept at all in the last few days, and hadn't left the house for four days. He couldn't bring himself to leave the confines of his apartment after he'd confessed his feelings to the unconscious boy he was curled up next to. Deep down he hoped that somehow Grantaire had heard him, one Joly had mentioned that sometimes people can hear during comas, but Enjolras was trying not to foster false hope.

He idly ran his hand over the white sheets of his bed, remembering how Grantaire had looked, sleeping quietly there only a few days earlier. He missed the warmth of the other boy's body pressed up against his own, warding the nightmares away. Enjolras hadn't had a single nightmare since Grantaire has gone into the coma, he assumed it was because he was already living something much worse than anything his subconscious could create. Not having the cynic beside him was worse than death itself in Enjolras's mind. He missed the softness of Grantaire's wine stained lips against his. The few kisses they'd shared had been soft and needy, a mutual craving for each other. Enjolras had assumed that the only reason the cynic had acted the way he did was because of the numerous drinks he'd downed, each of which could be tasted on his lips.

Enjolras rubbed the edge of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble burn that remained from Grantaire's unshaved face. He missed the dark lines that formed on the cynic's jaw when he didn't bother to shave. He'd never admit it, but Enjolras found stubble extremely attractive. In all honesty, he found Grantaire extremely attractive, from his cynicism to his alcoholism, Enjolras couldn't help it. He was completely in love with the dark-haired man.

The phone had stopped buzzing and now the screen displayed a new message. Reluctantly he awkwardly bent over, still slightly curled in on himself, and retrieved the device. Unlocking it a moment later he was greeted by a message from the hospital,  _Patient is awake and stable._  He froze, staring at the pixilated text with an incomprehensive look in his eyes, as if it were in another language. He was silent for a minute or two before realization hit.  _Grantaire is awake! He's okay!_

Enjolras practically jumped off of the bed, towards the living room. Eponine was sitting on his couch, watching TV with a bowl of popcorn on her lap. "Where’s the fire?" She asked softly, not turning away from the Game Of Thrones marathon occupying her attention as Enjolras grabbed his red jacket off of the chair.  

"He's awake!" He shouted, racing out of the door and down the stairs to his car.

Eponine jumped up, spilling her popcorn all over the carpet, "Whoa there Racing Stripes!" The blonde boy didn't slow in his running, leaving the dark-haired girl to rush after him. 


End file.
